


One in The Chamber

by xoxokurama (xoxoHiei)



Series: Chronicles of NIX [1]
Category: Shadowrun
Genre: Adult Content, Dystopia, Guns, Knives, Runners
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 17:43:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14062068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xoxoHiei/pseuds/xoxokurama
Summary: The Year is 2047. To be a runner is to be the one people call on, when they don't want their hands dirty.I am NIX. When you have rent to pay and want to eat sometime that week, It's time to find a job. Well that's where I was just about to be, when a gaint score came walking in my door.





	One in The Chamber

**Author's Note:**

> This story will contain quite a bit of adult language. That's why it is marked mature.

I was about to finish this new drone I had been working on for months when the optical sensor dropped on the ground and rolled underneath my workbench. I reached under and cut my hand on some project that I had stuffed away and I knew today was going to be one of those days. Fuck me. As I pulled my hand away I heard the service door open. I wrapped my hand in a rag and grabbed my street sweeper; a Defiance T-250 5 round pump-action with one in the chamber and a modified stock to stay on target. 

    I could smell the cheap ass cologne wafting it my garage, and instantly knew who my uninvited guest was. I leveled my gun directly where he is midsection would appear, as the doors creaked as it rose open. He was wearing his usual black biker boots, cargo shorts, and wife beater. He was the poster child of Ares Macrotechnologies with two Predator pistols on him at all times. He had that look that you’d see in one of those old football vids online. Standing next to a Suzuki Mirage, he had one of his usual scowl etched on his face. My beautiful machine was speed itself: jet black, nitro-injected fuel booster, and upgraded digital interface. It was a modern runner’s steel horse. 

    “What the fuck do you want?” I greeted Thorn.

    He narrowed his eyes down the line the barrel of my gun, “It is nice to see you too, Nix.” We stood there staring at each other for a moment in heated silence. “I brought your bike,” he finally answered the damned question. 

    I lowered my street sweeper and gave him a half smile. “Sorry, it has just been one those weeks.” 

    “So you playing with knives?” He pointed at ny hand wrapped in an oil rag. 

    Dropping my gun in my chair, I made my way to the rows of drawers behind me. “Yes, I was teaching a drone to juggle.” 

    “I hear those wage slaves pay a lot for those juggling drones.” He said, as he sat on my work bench. I opened the drawer labeled Fucking Shit. “What ya gonna do wip out a dildo or something?” Thorn said, as I dug through the bits and bobs to pull out my Iodine and bandages. 

    “Eat dick,” I responded walking back to my tanle. 

    “Do you have one?” He looked up and down the length of the table. 

    I smirked, “I can always build one.” I finished bandaging my hand. 

    “If you can build one that can walk and talk and do all the things mine can then sure.” He pointed at my almost finished drone and asked, “So is this gonna be our eyes in the sky?”

    I looked under the table and reached for the sensor once again, this time avoiding all those sharp parts. As I had the sensor in hand, I heard Thorn say. “What the fuck?” followed by the familiar sound of a gunshot. 

    I jolted upright smacking my head on the table. I exclaimed, “Fuck.” I heard another loud crack of a gunshot, before I could get my barrings on what was happening. I reached my street sweeper and leveled it toward where the gunfire first came from. 

    “Who the fuck do you think you are?” I shouted spotting the intruder. A large Ork was standing next to my bike. Thorn was near my drawers and shelves pulling his pistols from the back of his shorts. I fired the gun at the Orc’s chest and dropped rolling under my table to dodge his next shot. 

    I could the echo of people approaching from the store and other garages. Thorn took out the Orc’s knee. I fired again and took out his other knee, as he fell hitting my bike. “Oh hell no!” I ran forward. 

    Thorn reached him first shoving him to the ground. He fired his gun into the Orc’s face three times. “What the hell was that?” I made my way and looked from side to side making sure the street was clear. 

    Thorn shrugged, “Maybe he wanted the juggling or dick drone you mentioned earlier.” I chuckled and jumped on my bike pulling it forward enough for the service door to shut behind us.

    I shook my head slumping onto my cot. The door leading to the gun and drone shop in front of my place opened. 

A man that screamed old school military stepped into the room wearing military boots and pants with a shirt a size too small and said, “Hey Nix, someone is looking for you.” 

    “Tell ‘em I am dead,” I fell onto my pillow. 

    I could hear Raphael roll his eyes. “You can’t be dead, you owe me rent.” 

    I stuck my tongue out at him and sat back up. “I will be out in a minute. Raphael turned on his heels and went back to the shop. 

    “I’ll catch ya later,” Thorn said. 

    I got to my feet, “Hey, can you dump that piece of trash off at the dump on your way out?” 

    Thorn nodded and slid out the service door. I sighed and made my way to the front. 

    I could smell clean pressed suit, before I saw the man standing at the counter. He had two pistols under his jacket and a fly cam buzzing around his head; screamed corporate lacky. He smiled at me. “You must be Nix.” 

    I placed my hand on my Predator pistol. “Who wants to know?”

    “My employer wishes to offer you a job,” the man said crossing his arms behind him. 

    I tilted my head, “What’s the job? How much does it pay? Why should I take it?” I narrowed my eyes in on the fly cam that was hovering over his right shoulder. 

    “We need to locate, pick up, and delivery something we lost, the pay is four thouaand now and four thousand when you delivery, and for why what Rat doesn’t want to be on the payroll of a big ten.” He smirked. 

    I pulled out my pistol and aimed it directly at his head. “Let’s get some things straight. One, I mean what I say. Two, if you ever call me a Rat again, I’ll blow your brains out. And three, I am not looking to be on anyone’s payroll.” 

    He took a couple steps back. “Is that a no?”

    “No, that was just us getting a few things straight.” I smiled. “As for my answer, I will take the job.” 

    “Here’s your credits and the details, see you when the job is done.” The man left swiftly.


End file.
